


Crazy Little Thing Called Love

by PanicOnBord



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Emotional Manipulation, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Relationships, i mean tbqh p much let's be real, like it's gonna be a ship but it's not a healthy ship at the heck all, this is gonna wind up real bad folks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-06-27 04:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15678438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicOnBord/pseuds/PanicOnBord
Summary: An AU where Ford meets Bill inside an asylum and gets to know him. From there Bill hooks him in. Archive Rating to update with chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this at bordapanic.tumblr.com but!! I decided to start crossposting even if it's a small fic! Lil ooc Bill, but it's fun so haha here we go!

Psychology was a pointless extra curricular, at least to Ford it was. It probably says something about this school, or about the professor, that they’re actually touring the local asylum though.

They’re idly wandering through as a class, the professor somewhere up front. He had been paying attention to them, but he kept finding himself tuning out of the lecture.

There was a muffled thud, not terribly loud, but enough to get Ford to stop and turn his head.

There behind some clear glass was a blonde man who had his fist up on the glass. He was wearing the usual asylum garb, but he seemed to stand out in the dull outfit. He smiled when Ford noticed him and knocked a few more times, lighter and unnecessary.

“Uh, hello.”

“Hey.” He said, “couldn’t help noticing you looking absolutely bored out of your skull. Let me guess, not your major?”

Ahead, the rest of the class was milling about or walking ahead at a snail’s pace. “No, it’s not.” He said.

He hummed. “Ah, I can’t blame you. I don’t care for it either. Heck, look where psychology got me.”

And Ford cracked a small smile at that.

The man seemed encouraged, now conversationally talking to him. “So, what  _is_  your major then? Oh- oh, I bet I could figure it out.” He said pointing a finger at him, tip touching the plexiglass.

“Really?” He took a couple steps towards the glass to talk to him. “You think you can figure it out? You would just be guessing.”

He hummed. “Science major, right?”

“You guessed.”

“It’s not a guess when you know you’re right.” He said, a tad smug.

“Alright,” Ford ventured, “how’d you know then?”

“Easy. That class is a higher level elective, but if your major isn’t psychology then you need it for another science elective.” He answered, and truly the reason Ford was in this class to begin with. “How about a game.” He suggested then. “Give me a hint and I’ll pin down what you’re in all of this for.”

He seemed so certain, and there was no way he’d figure them all out, so Ford agreed. “Alright.”

The man settled a bit against the glass, watching him expectantly.

“The first hint,” he said, restraining feeling a tad smug himself, “I have more than one major.”

The man’s eyes sparked up then. “You’re a real genius, aren’t you?” He paused, giving Ford a very considered lookover before looking back at his face. “Criminal science?”

Ford couldn’t help the slight smile now. “No.” A completely wrong guess.

He waved his hand. “Another hint then, come on.”

He had to take of a moment to think of the next one. “It involves many laws and theorems.”

“Physics.” He answered without hesitating. “Even if that was a cop out. Give me a good hint.”

Ford laughed slightly. “Alright, fine… I study cells.”

The man hummed. “And biology. Unless you’re talking about prison cells.”

“I’m not, and you’ve got a second one.”

He gave a wide smile. “How many more do I have left to guess?”

“A few, at the very least.” He answered.

“‘ _A few?_ ’ Oh, you are one ambitious guy. What’s your name, smart guy? I gotta know before it starts showing up in all the newspapers.”

He briefly glanced aside with a small bashful chuckle. “It’s Stanford, but please, call me Ford.”

“Well nice to meet you, Ford. I’m Bill.” He put his hand out to shake… on the other side of the glass.

The gesture itself made Ford hesitate and he looked back up to Bill’s face.

A knowingly mischievous smile spread across his face before he pulled his hand back up by his head, shaking it slightly for effect.

Ford laughed at the display. “Polite of you to offer.” He said with a lingering smile.

“What can I say?” He leaned his side against the glass. “I’ll have to try again another time.” He said, tapping the wall with the back of a fist.

The professor’s voice then called down the hall to him. “Pines.”

Ford turned, surprised to see the class had gotten to the end of the Hall, most of the students lingering while they still could. “Coming!” He called back, taking a few steps back from the glass. He looked back to Bill. “It was ah, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Stanford Pines. Swing back around sometime, smart guy.” He said with a wink. Or- well he could have just been blinking. Bill’s hair covered one of his eyes.

Ford gave a small awkward smile in return, “I’ll uh- I’ll try.” He says noncommittally before turning back to catch up with the class.

The professor continues, leading the group through the door. Ford glanced back in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Bill, but failed. He barely looked and there wasn’t much to distinguish the cells apart from one another.


	2. Chapter 2

Ford would be lying if he had said he hadn’t gotten nervous when his professor arranged for another psych ward visit. Frankly, the class was… he didn’t want to quite say boring, but compared to his other classes it wasn’t as interesting to him. His curiosity sparked up whenever the more neurological mechanisms came up in lecture, but so far that had rarely happened.

That being said, the last ward visit had been the most interesting thing to happen in this class. However, thinking that he may potentially see Bill again had him nervous. It’d be rude to pretend not to notice him, but at the same time he was nervous what another conversation with him would yield. Or rather how he was even suppose to act, really.

It wasn’t as though he was a classmate, after all. Or even just someone he saw regularly on the bus. Whatever the social etiquette for this entailed, Ford didn’t know what it was and he was far from asking anyone about it. Just trying to explain the ‘situation’ itself, if he could even really call it that, felt ridiculous with how he had spent virtually less than a few minutes talking to Bill.

It’d perhaps be easier, if he knew he indefinitely wasn’t going to be at the ward again. Considering how early it was into the semester though, he seriously doubted that.

As it stood, he couldn’t find it in himself to walk by and pretend to completely miss the man. If he did, he’d have to do that for all future trips, and he didn’t think he could even manage it once if he was being honest with himself. Additionally, Bill had told him to come back around, so it almost felt rude to purposefully avoid him. 

Which, in retrospect, the casual request was a bit odd. Really everything about the man had been a bit odd, though that probably shouldn’t be surprising considering where he was at.

Ford couldn’t help getting increasingly antsy once they’d gone into the hallway. The professor encouraged them to glance through the different case files that had been set beside the doors now.

He stayed in the middle of the hall for a few spare seconds before taking a breath and heading towards Bill’s cells. His anxieties were quickly dropped though as he noticed Bill in a straitjacket and several injuries on his face, the injuries looking worse the closer he got. There were a few cuts, but the worst offender was the bruised and swelling skin near his eye. “Are- Are you okay?”

Bill was sitting down on the floor beside the wall, close enough to the glass that it wasn’t too far away to properly talk. He gave him a lopsided grin as he noticed him. “Depends on which definition, you want to take there, huh.” He replied cheerfully.

Ford didn’t quite understand but reworded the question regardless, gesturing to his face. “I mean… I mean, did something happen?”

“Ha! ‘Did something happen?’ Let’s just say the service here is absolutely dreadful. Plus, the living arrangements don’t quite come up to standards for ‘human living.’” Bill said casually.

Ford admittedly hadn’t paid much attention to this place. He glanced past Bill into his room. It… certainly didn’t look pleasant. It took him a moment to fully realize the implication of what Bill was saying though. He looked back to Bill, again taking in the rough injuries on his face. “The guards…?”

“Yup. I’m not giving this place a five star review anytime soon.” Bill said, confirming his suspicions. Then as though it was a perfectly natural time to segway from the topic, he simply said. “Engineering.”

He understood the abrupt subject change, though it didn’t make it any more unexpected. He pushed down questions that he hadn’t even had a chance to voice. When had they attacked him? What prompted it? Was the straitjacket part of that or entirely unrelated? “Yes. Mechanical Engineering.”

His eyes lit up at that, and he whistled. “I knew you were just too smart to not be in engineering. I was more into chemicals myself.”

“You’re familiar with Chemistry?” He didn’t have any real reason to be surprised, he supposed, but he still was.

“Oh! That’s putting it lightly, pal. I bonded together several different polymers for my own use. Get the right components together and you can make yourself a pretty little gas that melts anything.”

“How?” He had heard of some chemicals that could melt metal down, but not necessarily anything in a gaseous form.

“Well you need iodine. Put it with the right stuff and it has this neat habit of getting in between the cells and corroding it right away! Don’t want to breath that stuff in, believe me.” He explained.

“It is a  _caustic agent._ ” He barked out half a laugh, less out of any actual humor and more out of the grim imagery catching him off guard. Iodine on its own was already bad enough.

Bill hummed. “Another major of yours, huh?”

“Ha… Is that another guess?” 

“Are they really guesses if I already know.” Bill answered with a smile.

Ford half smiles at that. “I really didn’t say much.”

“You had this look on your face though. You had an idea what I was talking about, thinking through something even.” He shifted his back against the wall. “What were you trying to figure out?”

“The oxide blend that would bond with the iodine without making it lose its properties.”  Ford answered honestly.

“An oxide, huh?” He said smugly.

It wasn’t an oxide…? “That’d be the best combination for covalent bonding though.”

“I never said this didn’t take some extra measures to make.” Bill said. “Try thinking along the lines of something less dense-”

“A nitrous blend.” He realized.

Bill blinked, really watching him now.

Ford barely noticed though, continuing almost to himself. “It allows for the iodine cells to separate enough to affect foreign cells while still maintaining the compound.” He reasoned, gaze drifting off as he thought. “It’d take a powerful depressurizer, but it could work.” A short laugh from Bill managed to get him to look back at him again.

“That’s right.” His eyes sparked brightly, sitting up from the wall. “Pick the wrong blend though and it’ll combust entirely! Good luck with trial and error here.”

“That’s amazing.” The precision it’d take to create the blend had to be flawless.

“ _You should see it when it’s working_.” Bill said, looking off into the hallway. “Now that’s when everyone can see how amazing it is!” He seemed to get distracted, his eye catching on the various students in the hallway for a short while. 

“You know,” he started, looking back at Ford again, not bothering to reign his smile back. “You’re a real genius in the making, aren’t you?” The way Bill said it though it was no question. “Something special.”

A feeling bubbled up high in Ford’s chest and he laughed lightly. He couldn’t bring himself to deny the claim, even if it was a bit generous for knowing a little Chemistry. He had said ‘in the making’ though, and that could easily turn out to be true. “I suppose that depends on how I do in the future.”

Bill cocked his head. “Oh, it’s pretty obvious how you’re going to do in the future. You’re already surpassing all your peers.” He said, tilting his head to indicate the other students. “Three majors is already up there, and you’re already going past even that, smart guy.”

“Thank you…” A smile stretched across his face. Subpar university or not… well  _reasonably_ , his success in pursuing his majors thus far still must have meant something, right?

Bill slowly smiled, which was a tad confusing, though Ford didn’t have long to really think on it. “You know,” he started, “I bet you could even figure out the iodine compound.”

“I-” Well, on the surface it didn’t seem terribly difficult, but there had to be more to it though, of course. His mind already started on some possibilities before he thought of something. “Wait. Wait, you don’t mean actually making it, do you?”

“Oh, I’m sure you could do that too, but I just meant figuring out what goes in it exactly!” He continued. “It’s my own little concoction, nothing you could just pick out of a textbook. Actual problem solving, you know. You get three chances and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

He was about to ask how many chemicals were involved, but then the professor started distantly calling for the class to regroup. Ford frowned, seeing other students starting to making their way back up the hall. He glanced back to Bill though to at least ask him one thing. “ What about hints?”

“Do you need any?” Bill asked him right back, an outright challenge.

Ford paused for half a second, then purposefully turned to rejoin his class in a silent answer to the question. 

No, he didn’t. He already knew the compound was composed of iodine and a nitrous blend. The rest he could figure out.

Regardless of getting to the ground before even most of the other students, his professor still gave him an odd look. “Were you just talking to a patient?”

“Uh, well- yes.” His mind had already been half buried with possible additional chemicals for the compound. “Didn’t we stop in this room to learn about the patients though?” He frankly hadn’t been paying very much attention due to his prior worry, but that had to be the point in this.

“Yes, but-” The professor took a breath, glancing beyond him for a brief moment. He sighed. “I meant to just look at their files, it has plenty of information in it. Just- You just need to be careful doing something like that here. They’re here for a reason.  _Please_ , make sure to exercise a little caution.”

“Of course, I will.” He promised. “I already am, Professor.” It’s not like he was unlocking the glass door or anything, after all. 

Nothing could be farther from dangerous than just simple conversation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All scientific and chemical talk is entirely and wholly made up from vague memories.

“Whatcha working on, poindexter? Looks a lot more active than usual.”

Ford glanced up from the floor to Stan. Ford himself was still sitting among a rather wide arch of papers and some Chemistry books opened up for reference. “Just trying to figure out the chemical composition for something.”

“A four book problem. Your Chem professor must have decided to drop a real bomb.”

“Oh, no. This isn’t for class.” Ford said. “Is it your lunch break?”

“Lunch? Sixer, I already finished my shift. Check your watch.”

“Wait, what?” He pulled his hand over surprised that the time confirmed as much. “I could have sworn my last class wasn’t even an hour ago.” He said gesturing to his own watch as though it could be wrong.

“Don’t think you can pin this on a ripple in time or anything.” Stan said, holding out a hand, carefully leaning over the flood of papers. “Come on, ten bucks says you skipped lunch.”

“Not a fair bet, Stanley.”

He rolled his eyes. “So, it’s easy money.”

“Okay- okay, just a second.” He found the paper he’d been writing on and jotted down a quick set of notes. Meanwhile, Stan waved his hand impatiently.

“Arm’s getting stiff. Wind… so cold.”

“You don’t have to keep holding it out, knucklehead.” He put the pencil down as he finished writing, and grabbed Stan’s hand. “Okay. I’m up, I’m up!”

Stan grinned, helping Ford over the papers and books back to clear ground again. “There ya go out of the sea of nerdom.”

Ford adjusted his glasses, smiling. “More like a moat.”

Stan clapped him on the back. “Same thing.” He said waving a hand. “Whatcha feel like eating?”

He made an uncertain face.

“Eh. Let’s walk and see what we see.” Stan said going towards the door.

Ford grabbed his coat, pulling it on quickly as he went out the door after his brother.

* * *

“Mmm, nope. Nice try though.”

“What?”  Ford pulled the paper back from the glass to look over the formula again.

He’d come to the asylum again, this time without the class. The security guards were mostly fine with letting him through when he mentioned being there earlier for his psych class. It wasn’t the reason he was here _now_ , but that was unnecessary information.

“What’s wrong with it?” He asked, still looking at the paper. It was admittedly a bit messy, but he’d written the final formula in thick, emboldened lines.

There was so much more math to it than just what was on the single sheet of paper. He couldn’t exactly check over all of it right now, though he was almost hoping to spot a minor mistake in the final calculations that he could have missed. He supposed he hadn’t extensively checked it over….

“You went and made it over-complicated, smart guy. Jumped right past third level organics right to complex compound integrations.” He pointed out.

“The complex compounds are what’s keeping it together though!” Ford told him, turning the paper back to him.

Bill looked it over once again, humming. “Yup, that’s your problem right there.” He pointed at the formula. “It’s too stable.”

Ford paused at that. “…Too stable?”

“Well, yeah! It can’t be too stable or else it won’t bother reacting with anything.” It seemed like a bit of a simplified explanation, but he understood what Bill was getting at.

He frowned, pulling the paper back to look at the formula again.

“Two chances left.” Bill said, drawing his attention as he held up a couple fingers. “Want a hint?”

“I’ll get it.” Ford immediately replied.

Bill wound up smiling widely at that, and shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Didn’t you even say no hints earlier?” Though, frankly, that hardly mattered provided that he didn’t get absolutely stuck.

“What can I say? I changed my mind.” He said simply. “Hints make the game more fun.”

Ford considered it, holding in a breath for a moment. He let it out. “No hints, not yet, at least.” He wanted to say he could get it without one, but he wasn’t entirely certain about that anymore.


End file.
